


Untamed

by damaskg



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff to the max, Here there be dragons, and many many other creatures, extremely independent female protagonist, good god i love eddie redmayne, post-FBAWTFT, pre-FBAWTFT, sassy sassy sassy, scottish original characters, those glorious locks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 13:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8668537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damaskg/pseuds/damaskg
Summary: Rosaline Imogen Cordelia Thornwood had always been fascinated by Newton Artemis Fido Scamander and his affinity for creatures large and small. She, a sixth-year Ravenclaw, and he, a seventh-year Hufflepuff, had never crossed paths until one fateful afternoon in Greenhouse C. Ten years later, Rosaline's green thumb had led her to be one of the top herbologists in the Eastern Hemisphere, and he a highly renowned magizoologist, and inevitably, they ended up together again. As the world falls into the magical conflict centered around Gellert Grindlewald, Roz and Newt must fight to remain by each other's sides.





	1. Prologue: Hogwarts, 1917

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends, this is my first fic, so please leave CONSTRUCTIVE reviews if you have them, I'd like to see what kind of response this story gets before I continue to update, so please, let me know!

The sun was shining, birds were chirping, and there was not a cloud to be seen. Newton Artemis Fido Scamander knew he had no right to be in such a foul mood when the weather was so nice, but he just couldn't bring himself out of it. One wrong pot and Newt had landed himself in detention with the Herbology teacher, Professor Yeats. It wasn't his fault the bloody textbook hadn't specified that Flutterblooms needed to be fertilized with Mooncalf dung and not Dragon dung, or else they'd burst into flames.

Not his fault at all.

Newt grumbled angrily under his breath as he trudged towards Greenhouse C, the location of his detention. _Whose bloody decision was it to put the greenhouses so far from the school?_ Newt thought, the back of his thighs burning from the decline of the hill. This train of thought continued till he reached Greenhouse C, where, without a soul in sight, he allowed himself one second of anger and kicked the door open violently.

The door let out a satisfying _bang!_   as it hit the wall of the greenhouse, as well as a startled yelp. Newt couldn't help but let one out in response, as he'd never before in his life heard a door yell.

"MERLIN'S BLOODY BEARD YA DUNDERHEED, COULDYA BE A BIT LOUDER WITH THAT DOOR?" A loud, Scottish, and feminine voice yelled out, and Newt whipped toward the source, another startled yelp bubbling out of his throat. From behind the closest greenhouse workbench came a head of the curliest hair he'd ever seen in his life, then the rest of the body. 

It was a pretty girl, with high cheekbones and a slim face, but the thing that struck him the most were her eyes. One was a rich, earthy brown, while the other shone greener than any grass he'd ever seen before. Currently, those eyes were narrowed in anger, full brows furrowed and the full force of the famed Scottish temper aimed straight at him.

"Sorry-so sorry, I-I'd no idea there was anyone in here..." Newt stuttered, holding his hands up before him in a gesture of surrender. That usually seemed to placate his creatures, but not this time, it seemed. The girl folded her arms and cocked a hip, still glaring at him.

"So you just go around kickin' doors open, do ya? What'd that door ever do to you, laddie? Scared the hell outta me AND poor Hugo here." With that, she gestured to the small bowtruckle on her shoulder that he hadn't noticed before. The tiny creature gave its own intimidating glare, before folding its arms and nestling deeper into the girl's wildly curly locks.

"Sorry- so sorry- I'm in a bit of a foul mood, sorry- I'll just- go, yes, going is good, I'll-" Newt stuttered out, turning first left, then right, and banging into the doorjamb in his attempt to turn back around and get out the door. 

"Nah, it's fine, get back here. I'm just givin' ya a hard time. You did give us a right nasty fright, though." She beckoned him back in, and Newt noticed that her thick Scottish brogue got less thick as her temper calmed. He searched her face, finding nothing but genuine sincerity, and decided that it was safe for him to go back in. She approached him, holding her hand out with a small, almost shy smile. "Rosaline Thornwood, Ravenclaw, but call me Roz. At your service," she told him.

"Ah, um, Newt Scamander, Hufflepuff. Pleasure," he replied, tentatively taking her hand and giving it a single shake before letting it go, his eyes darting up to meet hers for a single second before falling back down to his exceedingly interesting shoes. There was a scuff on the toe of his left boot; he'd need to get that fixed soon. 

"What brings you down here, Mr Scamander? Not many come down here when they don't have class," Rosaline called over her shoulder, returning to her workbench. Newt dug the toe of his boot into a clump of grass growing between the slabs of cement that made up the floor of the greenhouse, eyes firmly fixed on the ground. Admittedly, Newt was loathe to admit his major mistake to this new girl, who seemed to excel at herbology.

Quietly, he muttered "I put Dragon dung in half the Flutterbloom bushes, instead of Mooncalf dung. I wasn't listening when Professor Yeats told us that Dragon dung would make them go up in flames. I've detention with her now."

A loud burst of laughter from Roz made him whip his head up, and she turned to him, a huge smile stretched across her face. "That was you? I thought Yeatsy was gonna have a heart attack when she saw those burnt up bushes." She pushed a clump of hair off her cheek, leaving a huge smear of dirt across her cheekbone. "Good on you. You'll be having detention with me, actually, I'm her teaching assistant. Come on, then. Let's get to work."

Newt's eyes widened, but he quickly decided that serving detention under someone his own age was much better than serving under Professor Yeats, who'd repotted enough Mandrakes without proper ear protection that she yelled almost everything at maximum volume.

"We're repotting asphodel plants today, it should be relatively quiet." Roz gestured him over to her, a small but radiant smile on her face. 

Standing next to her, and observing her passion for the plants around her, Newt felt as though he'd found a kindred soul, someone else who preferred plants or animals over people.

He thought they might come to be very good friends, possibly.

 


	2. Scottish Highlands, 1925

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nine years have passed, and Roz and Newt become reaquainted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos, guys! Here's a present for everyone before I go back to school tomorrow, I hope you all enjoy it! Comments are always appreciated!

Newt's hope that he and Roz would become good friends died a week after he'd met her, when Newton Artemis Fido Scamander was promptly and quickly expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He hadn't even the time to say goodbye to her, but what would he have said? _Hi, Roz. I was expelled because I took the blame for Leta Lestrange accidentally letting an incredibly dangerous beast out of confinement. I really hope we can still be friends?_ No, he was embarrassed. At the time, it seemed ridiculous, but looking back, Newt regretted not sending Roz a letter or some sort of communication.

Nine years later, Newton Artemis Fido Scamander was in a Very Bad Mood. Trudging down the muddy roads of the Scottish Highlands, soaked to the bone, he really, really hoped that this 'amazing herbologist' was really as amazing as Augustus Worm promised. He'd been commissioned to write a magical encyclopedia of magical creatures by the man, a publisher with Obscurus Books, and had recently received a letter from the man, directing him to a 'Dún Lachlaind' deep in the Scottish Highlands.

Newt had apparated most of the way, but at the moment, he was exhausted and knew that if he tried to apparate in his state of tiredness, he'd Splinch himself, or even worse. He just slodged along, feeling the _squish_ of his boots with every step he took. Newt muttered to himself angrily, cursing the weather, the damn muddy roads, the fact that he had to go meet this herbologist, anything that crossed his mind, really.

He was still muttering as he rounded a heavily wooded turn, when a massive manor house seemed to pop into existence, its edges blurred by sheets of rain. "Merlin's saggy tits, _finally!_ " Newt exclaimed, relieved that he'd be able to get out of this damned rain. He darted through the huge black wrought-iron gate, and hurried down the cobbled drive towards the door. The building seemed to loom even higher as he got closer, and Newt had no doubt that this house had some type of magic. Sliding past the pillars that protected the front door, he lifted the griffon-shaped knocker and let it fall twice against the heavy doors. Now, away from the assailing rain, he could hear very clearly what was going on behind those thick wooden doors.

"Bloody hell, get aff, why dontcha! Someone's knocking! LET GO, YA DAMNED PLANT! Merlin's beard, you're a clingy one!" A series of small thuds and crashes accompanied the feminine voice, and Newt's eyes widened. What on earth was happening behind that door?

His question was answered when the double front doors were whipped open with a grunt of exertion, and a head of curls attached to a very red face popped up. It was a woman, who looked very familiar, but Newt just couldn't place her face. Her eyes widened, whether in surprise or some other emotion, and she straightened, wiping her hands on her trousers.

"Newt Scamander, it's been far too long," She said, flashing him a cheeky smile, that Scottish brogue lending a charming lilt to her words. Newt's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. He seemed to be unable to find words, any words, and he cursed his awkwardness for flaring up, especially in front of the pretty woman. He didn't have to struggle for long, because behind the woman, deep in the house, came a loud, strangled yowl.

The woman's eyes widened comically, and with a look of terror on her face, she turned on her heel and darted back into the house, throwing a "Come, Mr Scamander!" over her shoulder as she went. 

It seemed Newt had no choice but to follow, because you can bet that where there's a creature in distress, there's a Newt Scamander. 

Newt had no trouble following the woman, mainly because the choked yowls and growls were extremely loud, and glimpses of the woman's hair seemed to stay long after she'd rounded a corner. Be as it was, his eyes still widened at glimpses of the different biomes that had taken over different rooms of the house. Instead of sprinting through a sitting room, he sprinted through what looked like part of the Amazon rainforest, then rounded the corner and almost tumbled headfirst down a sand dune. Finally, he made it into a cozy kitchen where the woman was crouched, unsuccessfully attempting to both calm a frantic Kneazle and pull the Devil's Snare off it at the same time.

"Here, let me," Newt muttered, gently pulling her hands off the Kneazle and replacing them with his own. "Hush, you're fine. She'll take care of you."

She shot him a grateful smile, and returned to the Devil's Snare, muttering under her breath the whole time. "How many times have I told ya, you'll get nothin' from the cat, ya daft plant!" When pulling at the tentacles didn't work, she reached into her boot and pulled out her wand, muttering "Don't cry, ya brought this upon yourself. _Diffendo!_  "

The tentacle split, and the Snare seemed to let out a little whimper, shrinking away from the woman, and in turn, releasing the poor Kneazle. The creature sat shivering in Newt's arms, watching the Devil's Snare retreat with a fiery glare in its eyes. Newt and the woman stood, the woman looking a little worse for wear. Her curls had expanded into a veritable cloud about her head, and there were leaves here and there in the black locks, and her face was even redder than before.

Newt stuttered a little when she beamed at him, scooping the Kneazle out of his arms. "I'm- I'm sorry, d-do we know each other?" 

"Ah, ya don't remember. Rosaline Imogen Cordelia Thornwood. It's nice to see you again, I apologize for the excitin' welcome to Dún Lachlaind."

Newt remembered now. "Roz!" He exclaimed, a shy half-smile overtaking his face. 

"That's my name, darlin', don't wear it out," She told him cheekily, making her way back to the front door where Newt had left his battered brown case. He scooped it up, and followed her back to the kitchen where she beckoned him to a seat at the battered kitchen table. She sat the Kneazle in his lap, where it nuzzled his arm and promptly began purring loudly. Bewildered, he began to stroke its back, sending a questioning glance at Roz, who just waved her wand. Two cups of tea soared through the air, landing before each person. "I bet you're wondering why you're here."

"Um, yes. Augustus Worme sent me here, but I've no idea why."

"Well, it seems the higher-ups at Obscurus believe that the two of us workin' together would be extremely beneficial," Roz told him, leaning back in her chair and taking a sip of her tea. 

"Pardon me for asking, but why? It- Herbology and Magizoology a-are two very different subjects," Newt stuttered.

"I know you've been commissioned to write a book, and they believe that your animals and my plants would work together very well. As would we," She added as an afterthought. "Besides, even if we don't work together, there are loads of animals around here. They like my plants."

"Um- ahem. Yes, of course, it would be a pleasure to work with you, Miss Thornwood." Newt met her eyes briefly, and sent her a small nod and a smile.

"Fantastic! We'll get started right away, then," She beamed, knocking back the rest of her tea. Newt did the same, albeit less violently. It was very good tea. "I'll show you to a room."

Newt followed her bobbing curls, the Kneazle still in his arms. His hands had begun to go numb with the force of the creature's purrs.

"That's Felix, by the way. I'm glad he's taken a likin' to ya, he's usually very grumpy."

"Pure Kneazles usually are, but nobody knows why. It's on my list of things to study," Newt informed her, his stutter dropping as his favorite subject came up. The three clattered up the stairs, and Roz led him to a large, well-lit bedroom. It was very tidy, the bed covered in a blue and grey plaid comforter, and two potted plants swaying gently on the windowsill.

At Newt's pointed look towards the bedspread, Roz cried "This is Scotland! Ya can't escape the tartan!" 

Newt rolled his eyes, and settled Felix onto the armchair that sat in the light streaming through the window, also upholstered in blue and grey plaid. He was pleased at the rapport he and Roz had struck up, and it seemed as though the years they'd lost had never happened.

He'd never admit it aloud, but since he'd last seen Roz, she'd grown even more beautiful. (How that was possible, Newt had no idea.) Her face had slimmed down, losing the baby fat everyone had during those years at Hogwarts, and those wild curls had grown down to her waist. It seemed as though she'd been spending a lot of time in the sun, as her skin glowed bronze, and her dark curls had sunstreaks in them. She was eye-level to his shoulders, but her curls gave her an extra two inches. The miniscule laugh lines at the corners of her eyes only accented the eccentricity of them, one as brown as the earth she dug her hands in, the other greener than any plant Newt had ever seen. Some things get better with age, and Newt decided that Rosaline Imogen Cordelia Thornwood was one of them.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, the image I used for Dún Lachlaind is that of Hopetoun House, just incase anyone wanted to see what I was imagining :)


	3. Dún Lachlaind, 1925

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roz shows Newt exactly why she's a world-renowned herbologist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love comments and reviews and kudos! They make me warm and fuzzy inside!

Unbeknownst to Newt, as he studied Roz, she studied him right back. Those years away from Hogwarts had done him good. She'd never noticed how pale and drawn he was at school, but now, he looked better than she'd ever seen him.

He'd grown, towering over her. She had to guess he was over six-foot, as she had to crane her neck to look him in the eye. His hair had grown out from the short, cropped style he'd kept it in at school. Now that it'd grown out to flop over his eyes, she could see the color much better, a rich reddish-burgundy that reminded her of sunsets. His freckles stood out even more, and it seemed he'd gained some. The biggest difference to her however, were his eyes. They were happier, the smile lines just beginning to show, but she could see the instant she'd put Felix the Kneazle on his lap how they'd shone at any mention of a fantastic creature.

 She smiled inwardly as she watched Newt nestle Felix onto the squishy tartan armchair, before clearing her throat and announcing “I’ll let ya have a quick rest before dinner. I, um, I don’t eat meat, so I’ll just make vegetable stew, is that alright?”

Newt turned to look at her with a gentle smile on his face. “Oh, that’s wonderful, I don’t eat meat either.”

Her heart warmed at his expression, and she couldn’t help but beam at him. “I’ll leave ya to it, then. Oh, before I go.,..” She waved her wand down his body, and his clothes instantly dried. “Didn’t want ta leave ya _too_ wet an’ icky.” Then she turned and slipped out of the room, gently closing the door behind her.

After she’d left, Newt let out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding, and flopped face-first down on that blue tartan bedspread. Roz was an enigma, and it gave Newt a warm, fuzzy feeling to think that he’d be able to rekindle a friendship that he’d lost after he’d been expelled. A grin spread across his face and he rolled over, folded his arms over his stomach, and promptly fell asleep.

Roz, as she returned downstairs, was having a similar train of thought. It really was terrible that Newt had been expelled before they could really become close, but she was glad he was here now, even though it _was_ nine years too late. She shook her head to ward those thoughts off, and snuck into the Amazon habitat to check on her orchids. They swayed gently under her touch, the nearest purple one leaning into her hand as she checked its petals for any rot or damage.

“Hello Pippin, how are ya doin’ today?” she whispered, a fond smile pulling at her lips as she stroked its striped purple petals. Moving down the line, she checked the rest of the orchids, greeting them all by name. “Good afternoon Kit, Mabel, Francis, Willa. How are ya all today? Feelin’ alright?” The five orchids all nodded their assent, and she moved on, satisfied that the endangered orchids were healthy and well today.

In the far corner of the habitat sat an adolescent Kapok tree, and as she approached, its branches fluttered in greeting, reaching down to pull the Devil’s Snare leaves out of her hair. “Hello Wilbur, how are ya today? Are ya hungry?” Roz asked, laying an affectionate hand in its slim trunk.

The tree’s leaves whispered an affirmative, and Roz released it, ducking out of the habitat to fill a watering can and add a few drops of fertilizer to it. Lugging the can with her, she returned to Wilbur and with a grunt of effort, raised the can and let the water shower over the tree. Wilbur let out a small creak of appreciation, raising its branches and soaking in the water, before giving a small shake, spraying the remaining across the habitat, but mostly on Roz.

She let out a giggle, petting the tree’s trunk once more before turning to tend to the rest of her plants.

The rest of the afternoon continued in much the same manner, Roz ducking in and out of habitats, murmuring quietly to the plants, greeting them, asking how they’re doing. She had the most trouble in the flatlands room, where she was accosted by a flock of small, round cacti that had all bloomed and were eager to show off the small, purple flowers. There, she’d had to sit down and let each individual cactus bounce up and preen before her, while the others looked on. She spent forty-five minutes with the cacti, but she couldn’t be mad. They were adorable, and she loved all her plants.

She popped into the Alaskan tundras, the Egyptian oasis, the Belgian wetlands, the Greek seaside. Roz spent a little more time in the Indian forests, the African sahara, and the Australian bush, but spent the most time in the dark bioluminescent habitat that had taken over the formal dining room.

As she slipped into the drawing room, she could see mooncalf heads instantly pop up over the tops of the rolling hills she’d placed, and the bioluminescent flowers all lit up, waving excitedly as she made her way to the feed bench. “Hush, hush, we’ve a guest!” She scolded the chattering flowers quietly as she dropped a round ball of fertilizer into their hanging baskets. They quieted down a bit at her scolding, but still chattered quietly amongst themselves as she watered them, allowing them to soak up the fertilizer.

She started a little at the bump on her hip, whirling to see a mooncalf staring up at her with big, hopeful eyes. “Yes, sweetheart, I’ll be right there. I know you’re hungry,” She told it, giving it a soft stroke on the cheek. It peeped at her twice, before bouncing off to its brothers and sisters.

Roz chuckled to herself, gathering up the mooncalf pellets in a pail, and making her way over to them. They all started peeping excitedly, sounding more like baby ducks than mooncalves. They all clustered around her, and she threw a few handfuls of feed, watching affectionately as they jumped up and down to reach their dinner.  Behind her, she heard the canvas covering of the habitat rustle, and thought _Newt must be up._

Her suspicions were confirmed when Newt pulled the feed pail from where it was tucked in the crook of her left arm and wandered off to feed the rest of the mooncalves. As she watched him, she saw how good he was with the creatures, and her heart glowed to see someone like her, someone with such love and care for non-human lives.

“I’ll make dinner once we’re done with these little beasts,” She called to Newt quietly, the quirk of his mouth the only thing that let her know he’d heard her. She bid farewell to the full, sleepy mooncalves and the now quietly waving flowers, and slipped out of the habitat, Newt hot on her heels.

The two made their way to the kitchen, small smiles on their faces. Roz loved her plants, and Newt loved his creatures, and both were content to be with each other, no words needed.

As they entered the kitchen, Roz flicked her wand at the grate, and a small but warm fire flared up, crackling merrily. She waved her wand again, and a thick loaf of bread and a knife soared gracefully to the table, where the bread began to slice itself. A heavy copper pot flew through the air, first filling itself with water at the sink, and then settling itself on the stove, where carrots, celery, potatoes, onions, and all sorts of other vegetables sliced themselves and fell in the pot without so much as _splash_.

With the work done, all that needed to be done was to wait for the stew to boil. Roz settled herself in the chair across from Newt, setting her wand down on the table as she did. “Did ya have a nice nap?” She asked Newt, and he was about to answer, but his eyes were drawn to her wand.

He made to pick it up, but glanced at Roz first. “May I?” He asked, and at her bewildered nod of approval, scooped it up and examined it, holding it inches away from his face. “Roz, i-is your wand _growing leaves?_ ”

“Um, yes, I talked to the tree and it let me take a livin’ branch, in exchange for nursin’ Winston back to health.”

“Who’s Winston?” Newt asked. Roz’s curls rustled, and a small Bowtruckle peered out of her hair.

“This is Winston,” She told Newt, holding a hand up to her shoulder and letting Winston climb on. She handed him gently to Newt, who handed her wand over in exchange. His eyes widened in wonder.

“Merlin’s beard, Roz. That’s ridiculous. You have a Bowtruckle that hides in your hair; your wand is growing leaves, what next?” Newt chuckled.

“Um, dinner, I think.” She grinned as she waved her wand once more, and two bowls of hot soup soared over to the pair, settling themselves on the table. “I’ll show you around once we’re done eatin’.”

The pair fell into an easy chatter over dinner, and once they’d finished, Newt insisted on clearing the dishes. Once done, Roz showed around the manor that had become so many different biomes, and Newt was dazzled by the magic she’d used to create them.

Neither of them would admit it, but they each had a warm glow in their hearts that only came from being with a kindred spirit. Somehow, they fit each other like puzzle pieces, filling in gaps where the other was missing.


	4. All Over the World, 1925

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roz and Newt begin their adventures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just can't leave this story alone, it's 1:54 AM and I have school tomorrow but I wrote this instead of sleeping. Is my Ravenclaw showing?  
> This was really hard to write. I won't lie, I cried. Please let me know how I did :)

Roz and Newt stayed at Dún Lachlaind for two months, preparing everything for their journey. Newt, immensely impressed with Roz’s flawless Undetectable Expansion charms, had enlisted her help in turning his battered brown suitcase into habitats fit for the creatures he was planning to collect. Roz, in turn, enlisted Newt’s help with moving plants and animals into the battered case, solely because of the fact that he could fit four mooncalves in his arms, as opposed to the mere two she could scoop up.

Having short arms really sucked sometimes.

It took two weeks, a lot of sweat, and a good cry from Roz when the Devil’s Snare decided that a chunk of her hair looked better in its tentacle than on her head, but Roz and Newt were all moved in.

Clambering down the ladder after Newt, Roz stepped out of the shed and surveyed the interior of the expanded case. The Artic habitat, the desert habitat, the oceanic habitat, the forest habitat, and finally, her greenhouse. Roz heaved a satisfied sigh and propped her hands on her hips, smiling tiredly at all the hard work she and Newt had done.

Roz surveyed the case, and Newt surveyed Roz. In the two months they’d been living together, Newt had become privy to many of her strange quirks. For example, no matter what pair of shoes, she always had to put the right one on first. When she stirred her tea, she stirred twice clockwise and three times counterclockwise. No matter where she was going, she’d always have her Ravenclaw scarf with her.

Newt believed that he could honestly call her his best friend, and he was in no way, shape, or form upset about that fact.

Besides, Rosaline Imogen Cordelia Thornwood was kind of a badass.

Newt kept that fact to himself as he stepped up to her side, taking in the heavy, thick French braid she’d somehow pulled her wild curls into. The wayward curls on her forehead were held back by a thin black cloth that he honestly believed to be one of his bowties. Newt particularly liked when Roz pulled her hair back because it gave him better view of the long, puckered scar cutting through her left eyebrow and running down the side of her face and neck. It made him feel much better about his own scars.

He knew for a fact that this scar came from a Venomous Tentacula, as she’d told him the story late one night as they say before a blazing fire, both more than a little drunk off firewhiskey.

Also, when Roz had her hair up, it let him see the hoops running up her ear, and for some reason, Newt really liked them.

Roz felt Newt sidle up to her and nudged him with her elbow. “Look at this. It looks pretty damn good, if I say so myself,” She grinned at him, and was delighted when he sent her a grin of his own. “Newt, you need to smile more,” Roz told him, dropping the joking tone and turning to face her best friend.

“Well, once we find more creatures, then I’ll have more reasons to smile. I guess for know, I’ll just have to do with the mooncalves. And you, I guess,” Newt added as an afterthought, patting her shoulder in a faux-patronizing way and turning back to the case. _You cheeky little bastard,_ she thought, before turning back to the case as well. _I’d be lost without you, though._

 

* * *

 

It was the night before Roz and Newt were set to depart, and Newt was sleeping soundly, dreaming about all the fantastic creatures he and Roz were going to find. His sleep was rudely interrupted when the door creaked open and Roz slunk into his room.

Roz took a moment to survey her best friend and see how peaceful he looked in sleep before she bent over and shook his shoulder. “Newt! _Wake up!_ Newton!”

“Wha- whazzup? Is there a fiiiireee?” Newt sat up, his voice muzzy with sleep. “I-is it a fireeeee? Where’s my case?” He hastily tried to jump out of the bed, but his feet got tangled in that damn blue tartan bedspread and he fell to the floor with an ungraceful _thump_.

“Hush, Newt! It’s not a fire, but I think you’re gonna want to see this. Put on your shoes and coat, let’s go!”

Still half-asleep, Newt pulled his blue coat and boots on and followed Roz, blearily blinking sleep out of his eyes.

Roz grabbed his arm and pulled him with her, out the back porch doors and into the pale morning light. The cold seemed to smack the pair in the face, and Roz pulled her jacket tighter around her. Behind her, Newt did the same. “Wha tiiiiime is it?” He asked her through a massive yawn.

“Ten to three, now _hush_ , Newton!”

The man did just that.

Roz pulled Newt past the lake, around the hedge, and through a small wooded patch, where they finally emerged in a massive clearing. Sat in the middle of that clearing was a huge Hebridian Black dragon sat.

“I swear, this has got to be the only Hebridian Black that the damned MacFusty clan hasn’t snatched up,” Roz whispered to Newt, who suddenly had a lot more energy than he’d had moments ago.

“Roz, you bring me the most wondrous things, Merlin bless you.”

 

* * *

 

After Newt goggled at the dragon for a few hours, the two returned to the house, where it was decided that they were leaving in a few hours anyway, why not stay up?

With a bit of a sleepy start, the pair began their journey in Italy, then France, Greece, Italy, Romania, and a train ride to the Ukraine, where they met some very angry Ukranian Ironbellies. From there, a trip through Russia with a (quite long) stopover in Siberia, then to China, where the two vegetarians were introduced to something called _tofu_.

From China, it was a winding trip through Southeastern Asia, then a short(ish) sea trip to Australia, where they spent a good month. From Australia, another boat ride to Africa, starting in Egypt. It had been smooth sailing so far, but Roz had a naggling feeling that something was bound to go wrong.

 

* * *

 

She was right. When she and Newt came across the Thunderbird, Roz thought she’d never seen her best friend’s face so stone cold before. They’d been crouched behind a rock outcropping, listening to the traffickers bustling around, with the occasional whip of a curse landing on the poor Thunderbird.

Newt had gripped her hand so tightly she thought it might never be the same. When he heard the traffickers torture the poor animal, Newt cried.

It was the first time Roz had ever seen Newt cry.

She pulled him into her arms and whispered that they’d free the bird, that it wouldn’t be hurt anymore, that she’d make sure it wasn’t hurt too bad, anything to stop Newt crying, because if Roz was being honest, seeing Newt cry made her want to cry.

In the dead of night, the two snuck into the camp, and Roz felt a fierce, fiery satisfaction hexing those who thought it would be fun to torture an innocent creature. Their leader got hit with so many jinxes from both her and Newt that it was hard to make out his facial features once they’d finished with him.

 

* * *

 

From Egypt, they went to Algeria, Morocco, Mali, and Niger, before ending up in Sudan. And it was in Sudan that Roz lost a piece of herself.

She and Newt had encountered a young girl, named Nafeesa. She was eight, and Roz saw so much of herself in the little girl. Nafeesa was so fascinated with the world around her, and clung to Roz like a shadow. When Newt went out creature hunting, Roz and Nafeesa stayed in town, and Roz showed her how to repot plants, and gifted the young girl a tiny potted daisy that she’d charmed to stay alive in the hardiest of environments.

Roz loved Nafeesa, but she had no idea what happened after she bid farewell to Nafeesa every night. Nafeesa’s mother died two years ago, and her father beat her into submission, beat her to keep her magic under control.

And one day, it was just too much for Nafeesa to handle. She’d come to Roz that morning with a massive black eye, and Roz had folded the girl into a tight hug, allowing her to cry on her shoulder before taking her hand and leading her to the marketplace where she’d discovered a cat and her kittens the day before.Nafeesa _loved_ the cats that padded around town. Nafeesa’s father saw them in the market and tore his daughter away from Roz, smacking Nafeesa across the face and screaming that she wasn’t ‘supposed to talk to the filthy foreigners, you idiot child!’ And Nafeesa just exploded. Roz hadn’t ever seen anything like it before.

The black mass ripped through the market, throwing Nafeesa’s father into a wall violently. Roz covered the cat and kittens, praying that it would be over, that she’d have one last chance to see Newt.

The sharp rapport of a spell cracked through the marketplace, and as soon as the storm came, it left. Roz looked up, and laying in the center of the market, broken and covered in blood, was Nafeesa.

Roz gathered the girl into her arms and pulled her wand out, muttering spell after spell, trying to keep the little girl alive. She hadn’t realized that she was sobbing until Nafeesa reached up and wiped away a tear, whispering to Roz, “Don’t cry, adi. I love you.”

Roz hadn’t realized that Newt was holding the both of them until she looked away from Nafeesa’s face and met Newt’s glistening blue eyes. He’d pulled his wand out, put a hand to Roz’s cheek, and asked her “Let me give her some peace in death, Roz. Please.”

And Roz watched as Newt’s wand pulled a black mass from Nafeesa’s body, and Roz held a small hand as Nafeesa slipped from this world into the next, a peaceful smile on her face. Newt called the black thing an Obscurus. Roz didn't know what to call it. Was it the thing that killed a little girl, or was it just the result of a terrible father that beat his daughter to keep her magic under control? Was it bad, for causing a little girl so much grief and trouble, or was it good, for killing the man who was the real cause of the grief and trouble? No matter what it was called, Roz stayed away from it.

Newt held Roz as she wept for the girl, and Newt held Roz as they buried the little girl, and Newt held Roz as they boarded a train for equatorial Guinea, both stony-faced and silent.

 

* * *

 

Roz and Newt spent a two months in Guinea, healing their hearts and souls, when Newt decided that Frank the Thunderbird had healed enough for them to return him to his home in Arizona. His case was getting quite full, anyway.

They purchased tickets to New York the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> adi-Sudanese for 'sister'


End file.
